


The Hallowed Even

by pretense



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5010208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretense/pseuds/pretense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy told himself that he just wanted to get some closure. He didn't realize how much it would hurt to say goodbye a second time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hallowed Even

**Author's Note:**

> The Anthesteria festival actually happens around January/February/March but since we're rounding Halloween and All Soul's Day anyway, thought I'd post this now. Now while the original festival is a three-part celebration, the first two actually focus on wine and merrymaking (since it is a Dionysus-centered feast) so allow me my creative license for a bit and right after you can hate on me for bastardizing the whole thing. :D

Percy didn't expect it to happen like this. Rather, he didn't expect it to happen at all. But it was happening. The dying rush of his pulse told him so; as did the tender swipe of a thumb against the drying tears upon his cheek.

Percy told himself that he just wanted to get some closure. This whole thing was an attempt to settle all those 'what-if's and 'what-could-have-been's.

He didn't realize how much it would hurt to say goodbye a second time.

* * *

His morning started normally enough. Breakfast with his mom and stepdad was followed by that weekly IM from Tyson before he headed off to school. Lunch was spent rushing off to the deli store one block away just so he could share the brief hour with Annabeth who attended a nearby school. The badly hidden anxiety lurking behind her bright eyes should have been his first sign but Percy didn't think it was anything too important; after everything that they've been through together he knew she wasn't the type to keep anything vaguely important from him. So when Athena's daughter grumbled about her rude classmates and unfair teachers, Percy was only too happy with ease her worry away with a cup of her favorite frozen yogurt. Annabeth told him she had a group project to lead after school and Percy accepted her excuse without question.

The rest of his afternoon went by without action, the droning spell shattered only at the very end when a sleek silver envelope turned up inside his locker.

There was no return address but the stamp decorated with winged sandals told him enough. At the back of his mind, Percy started wondering what quest he was going to get today. The envelope wasn't sealed; inside it was a crisply folded sheet of bond paper.

 _Hello, Percy!_  It began.  _I do hope you're doing fine. Now that I'm done with the niceties, I'd like to apologize for this letter._

Percy raised a brow. Yeah, Hermes totally has another favor to ask of him.

_I understand that you are most likely busy with your down time after saving the world's collective behinds once again. This is a selfish request, I assure you, but I like to think that this will help you as much as it would help him._

Him? A frown pulled on Percy's lips. There were so many 'him's in the world, how could the god expect him to know who – and then the answer came. Of course. Who else would Hermes talk to him about? Instantly, Percy's insides started churning in an unpleasant manner but read on.

_I don't know if you're aware but today is the last day of the Anthesteria. It is a long-upheld Greek festival designed much like the Western All Soul's Day tradition; only a lot better, if I do say so myself._

Percy fought the urge to roll his eyes, anticipation mixing with dread as he reached the half-way point of the paper.

_It is the one night of the year where the dead return to the land of the living and celebrate the feast with their loved ones._

Percy's pretty sure he just stopped breathing. The only things he's aware of are the cold emptiness inside his chest and the white-knuckled grip with which he's holding the letter. The pristine sheet was suddenly lined with creases, its legibly printed letters blurring as though Percy was looking at it through a fish eye lens.

"Mr. Jackson, are you feeling ill?" A concerned teacher had stopped in front of him, her ebony eyes peering over the gold frame of her spectacles.

Percy breathed deeply to steady himself, flashing the best nonchalant smile that he could muster to his English teacher. "I'm perfectly fine, ma'am."

Maroon-colored lips pursed together, the lines of her aged face drawing taut but in the end she shrugged it off. Her heels clacked down the tiled hallway, muffling off as she made a detour through an adjacent hallway.

Slumping against his locker, Percy stuffed the letter and envelope into his bag. He fished out his cellphone and hit speed dial but the other end wasn't picking up. No matter how many times he redialed the automated voice told him that the other phone was unattended until finally there was just the grating noise of a hung-up call. Why wasn't Annabeth answering?

Disgruntled and more than a little agitated now, Percy decided he needed back-up. Looking around, he found very few students lingering the halls – most of them had gone on to attend after-school club meetings. He felt around the pockets of his bag until he unearthed a gleaming gold coin.

The men's room smelled strongly of detergent, the reflective quality of the tiles were a testament to some janitor's recently concluded work. Percy checked the place for any sign of anyone else before he locked the door. Late afternoon sun slipped in through the slats of the air vents and it was pretty easy to direct a spray of water from the nearby sink to create a rainbow where the face of a satyr soon emerged.

"Percy!" came the excited bleat of his best friend. He was in a woodland setting with bushes of flowering berries all around. "How are ya?"

"I…" Percy suddenly didn't want to displace the obvious happiness on his best friend's features. Except the sole reason he called in the first place was to try and get relieved of some of the weight dumped on his chest; even though the more reasonable side of his brain told him it's not fair to shift the burden to his unwitting best friend.

Grover's face was filled with concern when it took too long for him to reply. "Is it Annabeth? Did you two fight?"

His throat tightened at the assumption. Percy wanted to dispel it but the fear of blurting out the truth consumed him.

The lack of reply left Grover to continue. "You know, Percy, we do have that trusty old empathy link so I can kind of read your mood… This one tells me 'heartache' and maybe things look bad now but you should take it from me, it's all going to be fine in the en–"

"It's Luke."

* * *

"Why are you IM-ing me, seaweed brain?" One brow rose into the mess she called bangs as a teasing smile lifted the corner of her lips. She was leaning against a tree trunk, the silver of her uniform catching the moonlight.

Percy mumbled his reply, eyes vainly trying not to meet the electric blue pair.

The dark-haired girl on the other side of the Iris Message huffed, pulling her woolen jacket closer. "It's nearly midnight over here, genius, so speak up."

"Do you know anything about the Anthesteria?" The moment he said it, Percy knew he should not have done so.

Thalia's easy-going expression was suddenly alert and calculating. She cocked her head to one side, "Matter of fact, I do know about it. It ends tonight."

Scratching the back of his neck, Percy nodded in reply. Thalia's tone already held enough suspicion; he didn't know how he could breach the topic without, well, causing damage (quote, unquote). In all honesty, he called her because he had thought of asking for her permission – which, right now kind of sounds very, very stupid. So instead, he pressed for details about the festival, trying to sound casually curious.

The daughter of Zeus gave him a pointed look. "People leave food out with a card bearing the name of the deceased, Hermes delivers the dead from Hades, they spend midnight 'til dawn wandering the living world, they go back to being dead." Thalia crossed her arms and moved away from the tree to scrunch up her nose at him. "Now tell me what your real question is."

Percy gripped the sink tighter. "Are you… gonna call on Luke…?"

Thalia's expression didn't change, though it did freeze for maybe half a second. Then her gloved hand wiped down her face, muffling a groan. When her youthful face was revealed again, a more collected mien was upon it. Her lips formed a testy smile. "What part of 'I'm-in-an-all-girl-group-strictly-no-boys-allowed' is not clear to you?"

"But–"

"Percy. Listen." Thalia held out a palm to stop him. "Luke's betrayal and all the pain that came with it is past me now. He was corrupted by a Titan but he proved to be the real hero in the end. He had saved us all and I've forgiven him. I've moved on."

He was sure the huntress didn't intend for that last part to sting but Percy felt that pang of hurt go through him.

"Now, if there was ever the chance that I could talk to him I would grab it in an instant," Thalia continued. "But the Anthesteria is not that chance. Not for my situation. Do you understand?"

Percy managed a nod, earning a smile in response.

"Good." Thalia's pose relaxed again and for a brief second her bright eyes flitted to the heavens. "And besides, I'm expecting a different visitor tonight."

* * *

Sally smiled bemusedly as her son insisted on waiting with her. The tray was illuminated with a red-orange glow, garnering the right amount of heat to cook the dollops of batter spread evenly across the metal surface.

Percy bit on a bar of unused chocolate, grinning with the sense of accomplishment. He offered the bar to his mother but Sally politely declined.

"So tell me again about this festival thing and why I shouldn't be mad at having you stay up way over reasonable hours?"

A pout came over Percy's lips. "It's like All Souls Day only a bit more… well, realistically supernatural... and Greek, if that makes sense. We're supposed to leave some food out and then the dead turn up and we can… spend some time with them. Not in the totally-creepy-way, mom." He added quickly at seeing the raised brow on her. "Just, you know… it's like catching up with a relative who's gone abroad."

"Except that 'abroad' is actually 'land of the dead'," Sally humored her son. "Okay, I kind of understand, but why are we making chocolate-chip cookies? Who is she? Or he? Or it…?"

"It's a he," replied Percy. "And cookies are his favorite food… I think."

Sally laughed and started clearing their work station. "Is he an important guy?"

Her words held no insinuation but Percy felt sparks start up deep in his chest. "He's a great hero," he confirmed, piling the bowls and mixing spoons into the sink.

"Ah." Tap water rinsed the utensils as mother and son worked in companionable silence cleaning up until the oven chimed.

When the clock struck eleven, Sally kissed Percy on the cheek good night. She segued to her husband's study on the way to bed, dragging out a bashful-looking Paul Blofis with neon highlighter marks on his chin. Paul waved goodnight to Percy who was carefully setting the sitting room coffee table.

The plate of cookies had cooled off and was now good enough to eat. Tucked underneath the plate was a torn piece of paper from one of his notebooks bearing the name of his desired guest. A pitcher of Kool-Aid was chilling inside the refrigerator and Percy decided it would be better to keep it in there until Luke arrived.

As the first five minutes of waiting ticked by, Percy adjusted to the ringing silence broken only by the sound of traffic coming from the streets below. He thought of turning on the TV to pass time but he reminded himself of his mom and stepdad trying to get some sleep, ending the idea immediately. Looking around, Percy was starting to get conscious of what Luke would think about the place – the photos on the wall, the potted plants at the corner, the furniture, the wallpaper…

Percy buried his face into his hands. "What am I doing?" he asked the empty room. It was still only 11:07 pm. His bare feet fidgeted against the cool carpet and his whole body froze at the sudden thought that passed.  _What the hell was he wearing?_

The board shorts were a little too tight, not to mention a bit frayed at the edges. A suspicious dark stain marked the collar of his t-shirt with the Ghostbusters logo stretched over his chest. The marshmallow ghost and the red slashed ring around it was cracked in places; the colors were ultimately faded from being in the wash so many times. Considering the… state… of his expected guest for the night, Percy thought the shirt was a bit of an overkill.

Grumbling at his unforeseen plight, Percy headed to his room to change. It wasn't really some occasion to get dressed up for, he reminded himself as he picked comfortably worn-out jeans that didn't require a belt to keep them on his hips. He went through his collection of tops a bit longer, trying to find something that didn't entirely scream out how fussy he was in picking it. A collared shirt always held some sort of formality, a tell-tale sign of wanting to appear impressing or just plain serious. Then again, if it was a polo shirt it would speak of sensible casualness. Except for the fact that he was just in his house, meaning a good old t-shirt will do. But would the design even matter?

Three t-shirts were laid out on the bed and Percy mentally groaned at how stupid he was being. He lay back and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. This whole day has been too stressful and that was saying a lot considering he'd spent a good deal of his time on quests that required him being on the alert for monsters for days, sometimes weeks. He huffed, relaxing over the unmade sheets. Just a little break. He needed a little break before all hell breaks loose (hopefully not literally).

* * *

Green eyes snapped open. His bedroom was submerged in darkness with only a sliver of light coming past the drawn curtains; he was pretty sure he left the light on. With a sudden rush, everything came back to him.

Percy scrambled to sit up, grabbing the nearest shirt he could get his hands on and wresting it onto himself. He got up and checked the zip of his pants before running as quietly as he could back to the apartment's main room. The sound of quiet humming, however, stopped him in his tracks just a few feet short from breaching his destination.

It was an unfamiliar song, probably not even a song at all but merely a string of notes thrown together. "I would've woken you up," a man's voice broke the tune. "But you were kind of lying there half-naked." It was an unfamiliar song but with an achingly familiar voice.

_Luke._

The name failed to roll off his tongue but it echoed ceaselessly in his mind, digging up memories and every emotion he'd ever felt for the guy.

"I'm here," Luke confirmed and suddenly Percy couldn't stand being in the dark anymore. He stepped up and found a very solid-looking figure reclining on the sitting room sofa. He looked exactly the same as the day when Percy last saw him. The room was dimly lit by the streetlights and the moon and stars; everything was colored in a grayish-blue tone.

"You came," Percy breathed, berating himself inwardly the second the words left him because they were so freaking obvious.

A grin parted Luke's lips, showing a hint of teeth. "You called me," he replied as though it was the answer to everything. He straightened up, putting his arm across the back rest and gesturing with his other hand to the plate atop the coffee table. "I hope you don't mind but I had a few bites."

"Not at all." Percy gave an awkward offhand shrug, the urge to move forward overcoming him. "I – I prepared drinks, too, let me just–" He ran over to the kitchen, extremely conscious of Luke's gaze following him. He decided to get two glasses along with the pitcher. Moving back to the sitting room, he noticed Luke sitting farther along the sofa, giving him enough space to occupy. Percy hesitated only for a fraction of a second before settling beside the blond. He poured the red liquid that smelled of strawberries, holding out the filled glass to the other demigod.

"Thanks." Luke's fingers brushed his hand when he took the drink. Percy was momentarily stunned at how  _real_  it felt. Green eyes darted to the sofa seat. Sure enough, the cushions sunk around Luke's form as though he actually weighed something.

"If you're expecting me to phase through solid objects, you're out of luck."

Percy started, unaware he'd been staring too long. He met Luke's eyes and they glinted with amusement directed at him. "I wasn't… it's just that… isn't that what souls are supposed to do?"

Luke chuckled, setting down his drinking glass. "You watch too many TV shows." He turned so his whole body was facing Percy. "Souls are projections of the human form, yes. Now while it's true that the most familiar type is the translucent phasing-through-the-walls one, souls that are strong enough can sometimes form corporeal identities. It takes a hell lot of practice and concentration, I tell you."

"Oh," was all that Percy could say. He put down the pitcher, eyes taking a glance at the clock as he did so; 1:14 am. The silence stretched until it was downright uncomfortable. Shifting in his seat and choosing to stare at the plate of cookies, Percy tried not to sound so nervous. "So…"

"How's life treating you?" Luke beat him to the question. An unassuming nudge on the knee prodded him to answer. Looking up, he saw the usual confident front on Luke.

Percy tried on a casual smile. "It's nice to get a break from the whole saving-the-world business."

"Really? Not attempting a three-peat some time soon?" Luke grinned, picking out a cookie. "You could eat some, too, you know." When Percy obliged and bit into one, Luke continued. "I have a running bet with Silena downstairs that you're bound to get your own statue on Olympus if you saved the world from destruction enough times."

"I doubt that's how things work," Percy laughed a little. "How is Silena, anyway? And all the other guys down th – I mean… you know…"

Luke nodded in understanding. "There's nothing to complain about, really; Elysium being the good place and all. Silena's up here by the way, we were buddies during the seminar and the trip out."

"Seminar?"

"You know, that whole lecture session on how this whole Anthesteria thing works," Luke shrugged. "Dad explained all the dos and don'ts and yadda yadda."

Luke made the whole thing sound like a field trip and Percy couldn't help but relax at the easy conversation. "So who's Silena visiting? And why isn't she with Beckendorf?"

"I think you know who." Luke took a bite of his snack, swallowing before adding, "And I think you know why as well."

The answer didn't come immediately. For a few seconds Percy scrunched up his face in thought, going through a list of the Aphrodite kids Silena might want to visit but he got it in the end; it wasn't a sibling that Silena wanted to see. Luke laughed softly at what he dubbed as Percy's 'Eureka' face.

"Silena had left a lot of unanswered questions when she died," Luke confided. "She told me she wanted to have some closure; she wanted both of them to come to terms with it… because it's not easy, you know, being dead for a year and still having ties to the living."

Their conversation's sudden turn stunned Percy. Blue eyes deep with shadows pinned him in place, he was pretty sure Luke could read everything on his face right now. Every unspoken word, every guilty thought, everything. Percy clenched his hands, bunching denim fabric over his knees. "Luke…"

"Why did you call for me?" Luke asked, voice low and somber.

"I wanted to see you." The confession rolled past his lips without his bidding. Percy couldn't take it back, he didn't want to; it was true. He needed to see Luke. He needed to – "I have to tell you. I couldn't – ever since you – all along, I–"

"Percy." Solid hands covered his own. Luke had moved closer, his large hands were smoothing Percy's fists into spreading out. "Easy there, kid. Breathe." Then in an undertone Luke huffed, "Probably not the best advice coming from a dead guy."

In spite of himself, Percy found a chuckle or two bubbling from his throat. Luke's head ducked low and he grinned at Percy. He relaxed, leaning back against the sofa as Luke worked on his fingers one by one. From half-lidded eyes, Percy watched Luke's effort at straightening out his hands, laying every digit over his denim-covered lap. As Luke made to pull away, Percy sprung to action and grabbed the blond's wrist.

Luke didn't say a word, watching with quiet intensity as Percy slid their palms together.

The calloused hand was the same. Rough from its expert handling of the sword, strong with the muscles of an indomitable leader, solid like… like he wasn't actually just a soul visiting from the land of the dead. Percy clamped his mouth shut, keeping back a choke that threatened to escape. Luke's hand was pliant, responding meekly to every press as though testing the waters.

Fingers lined up together, Luke felt the warmth of Percy's skin. He didn't have body heat of his own anymore so it was delightful to have the smaller hand press so close to his own. Shorter fingers tucked themselves in the spaces between his and Luke gently folded his own fingers over the back of Percy's palm.

They were holding hands, actually holding hands with laced fingers and everything. Percy didn't know whether to start laughing or crying. In the end he did neither, merely squeezing the larger hand whose hold tightened accordingly. "I'm an idiot," he finally spoke, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

"Tell me something I don't know," Luke murmured, turning their entwined hands left and right with fascination.

Percy watched as Luke moved their hands towards his own lap, using his other hand to cover the back of Percy's hand. Luke's thumb brushed against his skin, going so far as his wrist before retreating back and busying itself with his knuckles. When Luke's face finally came up, Percy saw the sadness in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Luke whispered.

"I'm sorry, too."

Luke shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"Yes I do," Percy began in a low voice, shame lacing every word, "Even if I keep trying to avoid it, every time I kiss her, I see myself kissing someone else… you."

The strong shoulders slumped at the confession. Luke's side met with the sofa's backrest, his head reclined over the top edge. Murky eyes met the equally distraught pair from the younger demigod. Their clasped hands fell into the small space of the sofa between them.

"If I had known you before, if I had known you better…" Percy's voice trailed off.

"I knew you for two months and I already knew you were a threat to me," Luke told him. "Not just in the whole we're on opposite sides of a war thing; although, now that I think about it, maybe that had a little something to do with this." He flicked his eyes to their hands before catching Percy's gaze again. "I've always pined after things that I felt were denied to me."

A brief smile surfaced on his lips. "It hurt to lose you."

"Kronos was going to burn my body to ashes with his transformation." Luke's bitter tone was oddly soft. "I wouldn't have survived either way."

"I wanted to kiss you that night." Percy shrugged to appear aloof but the blush on his cheeks told the truth. "A nagging voice in my head told me it was my last – my  _only_  chance, to let you know."

"You didn't take it."

"Yeah…" A chuckle covered up the self-consciousness seeping into him as their conversation went to intimate territories. "I didn't know if… Well, I thought it would be rude and kind of… I'll be kind of taking advantage of you if I did that then."

A huge breath of air accompanied Luke's empty laugh, his head turning to face the ceiling. "You really are too nice."

Silence reigned for a handful of seconds until Percy's quiet voice broke through. "If you were given a chance… would you kiss me?"

Eyes squeezed shut, Luke felt the tension of the hand entwined with his own. "I don't think I should."

"I'm sorry I asked."

Turning to face the other, Luke found a thin smile on Percy's lips and a barrage of apologies swimming in his eyes. "Percy–"

"Can we just talk?" The dark-haired teen interrupted him, a haphazardly thrown together attempt at nonchalance marring his young face.

Luke gave up. "What about?"

"Anything…" Percy reached for the coffee table and held a cookie to Luke.

* * *

"You can sleep, you know," Luke murmured, nudging the teen whose head rested on his shoulder. The flare of the muted TV lit up Percy's dozy expression, Luke found the crinkled pout adorable.

"Shut up," Percy muttered. "I'm just resting my eyes from your stupid face."

Chuckling, Luke finished the last of the Kool-Aid, deferring his eyes to the cartoon showing in the wee hours of the morning. "You just missed the part where the kid wakes up and it's all in her head." His grin broadened when short fingernails dug into the back of his hand.

"Quit trying to ruin my childhood." Percy opened his eyes to shoot a halfhearted glare at the blond.

"Old habits die hard," Luke said. When Percy said nothing in reply, he resumed watching the TV. When the credits rolled, the teenager beside him shifted. The clock on the wall read 4:56 am.

"Hey, I just thought of something…"

Taking the remote and flipping through channels, Luke's focus was more on finding a decent show, "Tell me."

Percy bit down on his bottom lip, unsure if he could make his words sound less accusing. "That time," he absently dragged the pads of his fingers across Luke's knuckles. "You said you were going to try for rebirth…"

"Ah…" Luke lowered the remote and inclined his head back. A brief pout sealed his lips as he organized his thoughts. "I guess it's what you'd have expected of me, hurrying to take a dip in the Lethe and get my ass reborn but…" Luke paused, considering. All the while, Percy's eyes bore deeper into him. "The second I got into Elysium, I started asking around for the place and found one heck of a line down there. I got to the end of the queue, deciding to be patient and all even though a slug would've gotten to the front of the line before me at the rate it was going."

Confusion wrinkled Percy's brow. "But Bianca – Nico di Angelo's sister, she's already reborn."

Luke hummed in thought. "Maybe she got special privilege being a kid of the King of the Underworld…"

Percy nodded. "Okay… so what happened to you?"

"My dad found me." A mellow smile rose to Luke's lips. "He told me about this Anthesteria… He said that if I could wait for a few months, I can tie up loose ends properly. I didn't believe him at first but, well, here I am."

"That can't be everything," Percy frowned at him, tugging at Luke's hand and demanding for a better explanation.

"What do you want to hear?" Luke teased. "That I  _felt_  the undeterred connection passing through life and death? That _destiny_  led me down the right path? That my  _instinct_  knew, one way or another, that someone up here was waiting for me?"

A dull flare warmed Percy's cheeks. "That was pathetic, Luke."

"I'll tell Silena you said that."

"No you won't."

"Uh, yeah, I will."

"You're just bluffing."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

Their faces had come closer during the playful banter and now that they've run out of words to say, it was the proximity that spoke for them. Time seemed to pause for that one second when Luke's gaze traveled south from lively green eyes. Percy's lashes followed the descent, touching down on his pink-tinted cheeks as he felt the other's attention move towards his lips. For that one second, all sound were vacuumed out and a split-second of decision was handed to them.

A gentle squeeze of his hand brought Percy's eyes fluttering open only to find that Luke hadn't moved away. He'd never been this close to Luke before, never had those too-blue eyes focused on him with such intensity.

"This isn't fair," murmured Luke.

"Nothing is ever fair," Percy retorted in the same subdued tone. "Not for us."

"See, Percy, that's the thing." Luke tilted his head the slightest bit so they were eye to eye. "There was never an us." No word existed for the look that crossed Percy's face when he said that, the sudden absence of warm breaths against his lips almost made him take it back. Almost. "I'll be leaving in an hour, Percy, let's stay off the depressing topics. Agree?"

Percy bowed his head, berating himself for having lost track of time. His eyelids were heavy and he was already sure he wasn't going to school that day, still, he had to – Every thought stopped when Luke started pulling his hand away.

Tension stiffened the smaller hand as he slid his palm away from it. Luke managed to free his hand but his touches still lingered, smoothing out the crooked digits and moving closer inch by slightest inch. With their sides pressed close, Percy leaned into him, his unruly mop of ebony hair cushioning his head against Luke's shoulder. When Percy appeared relaxed enough, Luke threw an arm over the backrest, just barely brushing against Percy's shoulders.

"Are you really going to try for rebirth now?" Percy picked up their conversation in light, careful tones.

Settling more comfortably against the cushions and the teenager squeezed in beside him, Luke made a vague noise of affirmation. "Can't see why not… Now, hypothetically speaking, you end up dead and in Elysium – would  _you_  go for a rebirth?"

"I assume that's going to be after a lifetime of having monsters chasing me for a quick snack?" Percy asked, eyes not really focused on the flashing colors from the TV screen.

Luke chuckled. "Sure, why not?"

"Well…" Percy inhaled, tasting the artificial air on his tongue, smelling nothing but himself and remnant aromas from the snacks on the coffee table. "You're basically asking me if I'd want another go at the 'having the whole world rests on my shoulders' thing…"

"I'm going for it," Luke reminded him in what could've been a chipper tone if it was louder. "Only way to get to the Isles of the Blessed."

"You were always an overachiever," Percy murmured happily.

"That's certainly one way to call it," Luke agreed. "Though I'd much rather prefer being called 'the best'."

"Oh please," Percy snorted. "Everyone knows that you are  _exactly_  that."

"Was," Luke corrected him offhandedly.

Percy froze but chose not to honor the blond's statement. He knew that. He knew that Luke wasn't really here, he's been dead for almost a year now. The only reason Luke was sitting in this room talking to him was because of that soul festival. Drumming his fingers against his legs to the beat of an unknown tune, Percy found his reply. "I think I'll sit around Elysium for a while when –  _if_  I get there."

"What do you mean 'if'," Luke playfully nudged the younger demigod. "Of course you're getting in there."

"We can't say for sure," Percy replied in the same brighter tone. "And I think whoever's judging people down there take arrogance into account. You know, with the whole good moral character and stuff."

"Because they would really deny the kid who's saved the world two times, and counting, from getting into Elysium. Yeah, I can see that happening."

Even if he couldn't see his face, Percy felt Luke's beaming grin and the son of Poseidon allowed quiet laughter to escape him. "Do you instantly get reborn, then? Like, once you get through the whole ordeal, do you pop up in the living world as a new baby already? Or is there something of a waiting line?"

"I'll have to check back with you on that," Luke answered. His free hand found the remote and started moving up to the higher channels. "Why are these stations even here, I mean, who actually watches them?"

Percy just shrugged. When Luke reached the hundreds, he finally turned the TV off and both of them were reacquainted with the motley purple hues of the departing night.

"If I do get born instantly, you do realize I'd have no memory of my past life?" Luke's voice replaced the dying buzz of the TV's static.

"I know."

"There's fifty-fifty chance of me being a demigod."

"I know."

"And that, out of everywhere in this world, I might not even be born in the US."

"… I know."

"Probabilities suck."

"Yeah."

A car horn blared from the streets below as the neon and fluorescent lights blinked off in anticipation of the glorious sun. An alarm clock started ringing from the apartment next door. Percy's hand settled on Luke's leg, just above his knee. Luke's arm slid down the sofa to rest loosely around Percy's waist.

Luke leaned against the head on his shoulder. "Thanks for staying up with me." The words were murmured into ebony hair, the brush of lips against the scalp sending unknown rushes of emotion all over the teen.

Bursts of heat ignited behind his eyes and Percy closed them in anticipation of the wetness that was bound to go through. His chest tightened and the stuttering inhale he just took signaled the beginning of the end. "Thanks for… for everything."

"Except maybe for the fact that I'm making you skip school," Luke grinned, thumb quietly stroking the t-shirt over Percy's hip. "Though I can't really sympathize with that, and surprisingly I'm not exactly sorry."

"You didn't make me skip school," Percy pointed out, smiling in spite of himself.

"But I'm the reason why you'll be spending the rest of the day passed out."

"You're the reason for a lot of things, Luke." Percy drew his hand away from Luke's leg. Turning his body, he fitted himself more snugly against Luke's side, bringing his arms around the taller one's middle. "A lot of them were pretty good."

"Including the way your heart's running a mile a minute," Luke observed in an unreadable tone. He felt the first drop soak through his shirt.

"Especially that."

The luminous transition of colors would've been a wonderful sight if Percy had paid attention. As it was, he'd kept his eyes closed and his arms tight around the departed soul beside him. Gentle strokes went down his back as the same tune from the darkest part of the morning came forth once again. Luke hummed the notes as he rested his head against Percy's temple, downy lashes touching his cheek empty of the tears he'd wanted to shed.

From the far horizon, the first ray of gold broke through hues of orange and red-violet.


	2. Trick

Percy allowed himself to be swayed by Luke's movement. The strong, calloused hands guided him down, letting his head rest against the sofa's arm. Luke lifted Percy's legs and settled them against the cushions, then he took to sitting on whatever space was left.

"I ruined your shirt." Percy mumbled as Luke wiped away the last traces of wetness from his face.

"That's okay," Luke smiled, pushing back messy ebony bangs to reveal the tired eyes. "You're gonna be okay." Looking up, he saw how the gleaming sunlight bathed the wakening city. Time had run out.

"I can try," said Percy, aware of the morning seeping into the apartment.

Luke smirked at him, the splash of early light doing wonders to the colors in his eyes. He leaned down, diving into weak shadows as he tilted Percy's face up to meet him. "Get some rest, Percy…"

The last thing to register in his mind was the brush of Luke's lips and the comforting warmth spreading all over his body.

* * *

Percy stirred awake cocooned in a mess of blankets and rumpled t-shirts. The sliver of light passing through the curtains told him it was probably around the middle of the afternoon. Stretching out, he found that he was still in his jeans and top from last night. He grabbed the clean shirts and tossed them inside his closet, making a mental note to fold them neatly later when his mind was functioning more properly.

His stomach grumbled, sounding louder than the creak of his bedroom door as he stepped out to find food. There was no other sound except for the muffled hubbub of the busy life from outside.

Everything was quiet. He's sure there's still some left over batter from last night.

A note and a couple of bills are stuck on the fridge with the help of a magnet. The note was from his mom, telling him to order take-out if he's hungry and that she baked the rest of the cookie batter for her writing seminar's potluck lunch buffet.

Hooking his thumbs into his pockets as he considered his options, Percy felt another note. He opened the lined paper with its torn edges.

Underneath his own handwriting was the unfamiliar scrawl of the person whose name he'd spelled out. Altogether, the writings read:

_Luke Castellan_

_will only be as happy as you let yourself be._

_And he will not appreciate having a kid named after him._

_Be a little more original, Percy._

In spite of himself, Percy laughed.

**_-END-_ **


	3. Treat

Percy allowed himself to be swayed by Luke's movement. The strong, calloused hands guided him down, letting his head rest against the sofa's arm. Luke lifted Percy's legs and settled them against the cushions, then he took to sitting on whatever space was left.

"I ruined your shirt." Percy mumbled as Luke wiped away the last traces of wetness from his face.

"That's okay," Luke smiled, pushing back messy ebony bangs to reveal the tired eyes. "You're gonna be okay." Looking up, he saw how the gleaming sunlight bathed the wakening city. It was time.

"Are you?" Percy asked, laying his own hand over Luke's hand and pressing his face against it.

"I'm dead, how much more okay can I get?" Luke's joke didn't get its desired effect. With an empty huff, Luke leaned down, his forehead pressed against Percy's. "You wanna know what I'm thinking?"

"That was the whole point of this whole thing," Percy reminded him with a faint smile.

"I'm thinking that I really shouldn't kiss you," Luke admitted. He didn't miss the way Percy's eyelids dropped a notch lower, how those green eyes turned darker, how that chin raised a little. "And I'm also thinking how much more difficult you're making this for me. Really, Percy…"

"Maybe that's because I want you to." All around them, the apartment was being filled with sunlight but Percy nestled lower against the sofa, holding Luke in place with his hand and his gaze. "One little kiss wouldn't hurt," he implored.

"Except that this kind of counts as a sort of necrophi–"

"Just kiss me, Luke."

Luke moved his hand to line up with the teen's jaw, caressing the warm skin that leaned into every touch. "There's no denying you, is there?"

"Just like there's no getting over you." Percy's words got quieter towards the end as Luke finally sealed their mouths together.

Exploring fingers ran through the spikes of his hair, pulling him lower as Percy surged up. Percy's lips were soft and warm, they molded themselves against his own, moving with all intent to get every last bit of affection it could manage. Oh but Luke has plenty of that. Almost too much, to be honest, and pretty soon just massaging their lips against each other wouldn't be enough. He pulled back slightly only to come back at a different angle, loosing himself in the need radiating off the smaller body trapped underneath him.

A moan tore from his throat only to be muffled by the lips meshed against his own. Percy didn't think he needed anything to fuel him further but the feeling of Luke's smirking lips branding his skin roused deeper feelings; hungrier, more desperate ones that he wasn't even aware of having. Sleep drained from his system, taken over by the hot rush that woke every nerve ending on his body to Luke's suddenly overwhelming presence. By the time his pulse slowed down, the whole place was lighted by the sun.

The rise and fall of Percy's chest moved against his own unmoving one. Luke opened his eyes to find Percy staring at him, though it shouldn't have been a surprise. The brightness of the morning was almost blinding but not as much as the smile Percy sent his way. He gave the teen a light peck, the warm little breath that danced on his lips sent unprecedented heat running down every part of him. He watched Percy, felt the fond strokes going down from his scalp to the back of his neck. "I wish I could stay longer…"

"I wish you could stay forever," Percy replied, sheepish smile only serving to accentuate his red cheeks.

"Mm," Luke kissed the corner of his mouth. Lowering himself a bit more to feel Percy's warmth.

Percy didn't miss the chance to wrap his other arm around Luke's waist, at the same time inclining his face a bit to meet Luke's lips.

"Ahem."

Green eyes shot open. Luke's eyes shone with a mischievous glint.

"Would now be a bad time to tell you that we weren't supposed to eat the Food for the Dead?" Luke murmured with too much glee in his tone.

His mouth dropped open. "Luke, what did we just do?"

"Exactly what I told him  _not_  to do," came the same voice that made the throat-clearing sound moments earlier. Surprisingly, or maybe  _unsurprisingly_  once the demigods found who it was, the tone carried no hint of annoyance or anger or anything resembling those things. Rather, it sounded proud.

Luke sat up, bringing Percy with him.

Hermes stood near the windows, dressed in gray sweatpants and a zipped up black hoodie. His caduceus-mobile was open in one hand, the unmistakable notes of speed-dial patching through. All the while, George and Martha were slithering and making 'tsk' noises.

Percy stared between father and son and the matching easy looks they held. He had no idea what was going on but Luke was running a thumb across the back of his hand as though in comfort.

The other end of the line picked up and Hermes answered in loudspeaker mode. "He did it, didn't he?" came a chirpy male tone with the background sounds of a motor engine.

"Cleared every item on the check list," Hermes replied; blue eyes pinning the two half-bloods in place.

A whistled hoot preceded the next line of conversation. "Think Uncle H knows by now?"

"Charon's a blabbermouth. He can't keep secrets to save his life." Hermes' eyeroll was punctuated with snickering from the snake-worms on his phone antenna. "Pick us up; we're at Percy Jackson's place."

"Duh."

"Alright, genius, I'll see you."

"Course you will," a tone teeming with confidence answered. "Imagine how hard your life would be without seeing me."

"The kids are right in front of me," Hermes brought the phone closer to hiss against the receiver. "Leave the mundane chattiness for later, Sunshine. Bye."

"You're really touchy when you're in father-mode, you know–"

Hermes snapped the phone shut without waiting for the guy to finish.

"Sunshine?" Luke raised a brow at his father while Percy asked, "Who's Sunshine?" Hermes merely shook his head at them and tucked his phone away.

As if on cue, the alarm clock in the master bedroom went off. Percy started, eyes rounding towards the door that swung open after a minute. Sally Jackson walked out with unkempt hair and a bathrobe. She rubbed her eyes as she went right on towards the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Blinking her eyes open, she found the guys in her living room and let out a startled gasp. The glass slipped from her hand but it was caught just in time by the man with salt and pepper hair who appeared out of thin air beside her.

"Sorry to intrude upon your home, Madam," Hermes smiled, handing the woman her drinking glass back. "But my son and I have business to discuss with your son."

"Business?" Sally looked past him, finding Percy on the sofa with a blond young man whose scar rekindled old memories in her. "Percy…?"

Her son scrambled to stand up, confusion swimming in his green eyes. "Mom, that's uh, Hermes, Messenger of the Gods… And this is his son, Luke…"

"Pleasure to meet you." Hermes gave her another charismatic grin. As did Luke, who had taken to standing beside Percy.

"Yes, uh, oh dear." Sally turned away and suddenly started fixing her hair. "Really sorry to be in this state in front of you," she managed a small smile. "Would you gentlemen like a cup of coffee?"

"No thank you, we're actually waiting for our ride to come by." Hermes's phone started ringing and a bright grin split his face. "That's our ride. You won't mind us borrowing Percy for a few hours, would you?"

Seeing the anxiety on his mother's face, Percy crossed over to the kitchen and hugged her. "I'll be okay, mom," Percy promised. "It's just another demigod thing."

"Have you even had breakfast?" Sally asked, wrapping her own arms tight around her son.

"I've had cookies," Percy motioned towards the plate at the coffee table only to find it gone. The sudden break in the sound of running water brought his attention towards the sink where Hermes was just placing the pitcher, plate and drinking glasses on the drying rack.

The god of communication shrugged. "It's not nice to leave dirty dishes in the host's house." Facing Sally, he assured her once more. "We'll take care of your son, Mrs. Jackson-Blofis."

"Alright, he can go out." Sally finally acquiesced. "But bring your cellphone, Percy."

"Okay," Percy hugged his mom goodbye. "Thanks, mom."

Sally stood back as Percy went to rejoin his friends. In the blink of an eye, the god in the room had Percy's cellphone hanging from his fingers. Percy snatched the gadget and jammed in into his pocket, following after the god. As they filed out of the door one by one, the blond man with the scar down his cheek paused and met her gaze.

"It was nice to meet you," the guy smiled before closing the door.

Call it a mother's instinct but Sally couldn't help but sent a quiet prayer to Percy's father, hoping that her son wasn't into any trouble.

* * *

"I TOLD YOU THOSE TWO ARE NOTHING BUT TROUBLE!" Dark flames rose all around the god of the underworld, his pallid face contorted into a menacing glare.

Hermes stuck a pinky finger in his ear and pretended to clean it out. The throne room was vast but only a handful of the seats were occupied. Zeus sat on his chrome seat, Poseidon lounging on his own throne beside his brother. Hades stood before his brothers, yet to stop his tirade on why Hermes should never had been allowed to guide his son's soul out of the underworld in the first place.

Standing a bit behind the deities were the two demigods. An undercurrent of pain was running underneath Percy's veins, but he was pretty sure he looked anxious as hell anyway. Luke was very good in acting cool and aloof.

"It's weird," Luke whispered through the side of his mouth.

Percy raised a brow, unsure if they should be having this conversation instead of paying attention to Hade's soliloquy. "Weird what?"

"Being here again." Luke's blue eyes gazed at him sideways. "With you."

At the look of hurt that crossed Percy's face, Luke bridged the space between them, taking Percy's hand and giving it a soft squeeze.

"Lighten up, kid," murmured Luke. His smile grew as Percy swayed their hands slightly.

"Is this a get-yourself-back-to-life scheme?" Percy asked, piecing together the puzzle in his head.

"Welcome to Phase Four," Luke muttered.

"So everything we talked about last night–"

"This morning."

"All of those things," Percy persisted. "They weren't real."

"Of course they're real." Luke cocked his head to the side, meeting Percy eye to eye. "They're just a bit… belated."

"Perseus Jackson!"

Their hands flew apart at the thundering voice. Four sets of godly eyes were staring at them, only one of which was a shade friendly.

"Y-Yes?" Percy looked up at the King of Olympus.

"Are you aware of the scheme to bring Luke Castellan back to life?" Zeus demanded.

"Not really," Percy answered. "I mean, I got a letter from Hermes telling me it was the Anthesteria, about the whole dead-walking-the-earth-for-one-night thing and I just… I took the chance to call on Luke."

"I can't believe you dragged my son into this," Poseidon grumbled, stormy eyes narrowed at Hermes.

The trickster god shrugged. "I gave him a choice. He could've easily just ignored that letter."

"Oh don't  _start_ ," Hades moaned, throwing his hands to the air in frustration. "We all know that kid's weakness is love. You exploited that for your own dastardly means!"

"Way to make me the villain here." Hermes crossed his arms and pouted.

"That's exactly what you are," Hades rounded on his nephew. "I trusted you to do your job properly – a job that you've been doing dutifully for the past couple of millennia. Being  _psychopomp_ does not give you the right to smuggle out souls!"

"It's technically not smuggling if the soul went out with your permission," Hermes pointed out cheekily.

Hades' brows met at the center. "Let's call it overstaying then, because he failed to be returned with the rest."

"Funny you should mention that," Hermes piped up. "See… I do recall a rule in your realm, something about partaking of food and being trapped in the place and stuff…"

Zeus smacked his palm to his forehead, for once losing his composure. "Oh damn it, not this again."

Poseidon turned to Percy with hopeful eyes. "Son, please tell me you didn't."

"Um." Percy swallowed, feeling an anxious jig start up his leg. "Well, no one told me Luke wasn't supposed to–" When his godly father buried his own face in his hands, Percy wisely shut up.

"How many?" Zeus's weary tone filled the room.

"Brother!" Hades protested. "Don't tell me you're letting this slide by!"

"And why not?" Hermes blocked his uncle's path. "It worked for you, didn't it? Tricking Persephone with those pomegranates."

A snarl escaped Hades' throat. He stretched out his hand and a nefarious bident appeared, its Stygian Iron glinting with menace. "Don't you bring my wife into this."

"History is bound to repeat itself, haven't you heard?" In a shimmer of gold, Hermes' caduceus materialized as well.

"Hermes, your uncle is right," Poseidon tried to sound appeasing. "Your course of action was not the best way of bringing your son back to life."

"His son shouldn't be brought back to life in the first place!" Hades shouted at the same time that Hermes retorted with, "At least I did something!"

Poseidon stood from his throne, narrowed gaze staring down at the winged messenger. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that at least  _I_  had the guts to recognize that there's a problem here and I did what I could to fix it!" Hermes jutted out his chin, his blue eyes clashing with the stormy sea green of his other uncle. "Ask your son!"

"Percy had nothing to do with this! If anything, my son was victimized in your plot!" Poseidon roared. "You did this to save yourself from your own misery. It's all you and your twisted idea that doing this would somehow make up for your sorry excuse for fatherhood."

Before the three gods could get ahead of themselves and make the throne room their battleground, Zeus called for order. "Everybody, calm down!" Thunder claps rocked the beautiful view of fluffy white clouds outside the grand windows and everyone stopped moving. A frown was on the King of Olympus as he focused his attention on the trickster. "My son," he implored. "Your reasons may be valiant–" at seeing Hades scoff at his words, Zeus quickly amended, "– _to a certain degree_ , but you must know that no good ever comes from defying the laws of life and death."

"I know that, Father," Hermes replied. "That's why I asked for permission. The Moirai have given me their blessing."

"They what?!" Hades' neck almost broke in half at the sudden snap of attention.

Hermes' gaze went to the side opposite the Lord of the Dead. "They, uh, were kind of exasperated that I took so long to ask."

"That can't be true," Poseidon murmured, hand on his chin as he mused upon the new information.

"He's the god of lies, of course it's not true!" Hades pointed out, directing the tip of his bident towards the guilty god.

"I may be the god of trickery but I am far from stupid," Hermes defended himself. "I know that every action has a consequence and fate is something not even gods should meddle with. But you weren't there when I consulted them, you didn't speak with them. They told me it must be done." He looked his father in the eyes. "You are all-knowing, father, you know that I uttered no lies."

"Is it true?" Poseidon settled back on his seat, leaning over the arm rest as though bracing himself for the answer.

Zeus's eyes flitted from his son to his brothers, taking Hermes' testament into careful consideration. The Fates were indeed not a force to be messed with and Hermes, while being the type to indulge in risks, would not lay his neck on the line for something doomed to backfire so badly. But this whole thing wasn't just about them gods – there were children involved. Moving past the proud statures, Zeus froze.

"Where are the demigods?"

The three powerful deities with him turned and stared at the empty spot where Luke and Percy were supposed to be standing.

* * *

"Don't you boys hate it when they all go yapping around instead of finishing the actual business?"

Percy raised uncertain eyes to Luke who gave him small smile, communicating with the gentle grip of his hand that they better not do anything hasty and just go along. After all, these were the Fates they were dealing with.

"After all these years, you'd think they'd mature enough," one of the cloaked figures mutters.

"Bah, I don't see that changing in the foreseeable future," a second one added. "And by foreseeable future, I mean the next couple of millennia."

The three grandmothers cackled at the joke. They led the demigods down empty hall after empty hall, chatting amiably to pass the time.

It was Luke who noticed them first, back inside the throne room. As Poseidon joined the shouting match between Hermes and Hades, and while Zeus was too busy pushing down a brewing migraine, Luke found a silver-haired woman beckoning him. She appeared from behind something of a secret door along the marble wall and she was calling for them. Luke didn't know why he could not find it in himself to resist her. It was Percy who identified the figure, following after Luke without a word and escaping the verbal brawl happening between the gods. This old woman was the one who had shown Percy glimpses of his future.

Stopping in front of a plain, unassuming door, the Fates pushed it open and headed inside. Luke held the door open and let Percy pass through before he went in and closed the door behind them. Luke had barely taken another step when he crashed into the younger half-blood.

"Sorry," Luke muttered, but when the son of Poseidon kept standing still Luke got worried. "Percy, what's wrong?" The terror in those green eyes forced Luke to refocus his attention on whatever it was that brought Percy to this state. Luke found his corpse.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" one of the Fates spoke up.

"Pristine condition," nodded another.

"I… I don't understand." Luke stepped up to his physical body lying on its back on a marble table. The blood was cleaned up and not a single scratch was on his skin or clothes, what he could see of them, anyway. The burial shroud was still wrapped around his body, the silver caduceus affixed over his chest glinting with the torchlights all around the room. "I thought I was cremated. How could I be here if…" He didn't know how to finish the statement, turning instead towards the divine beings for an explanation.

"Some things are simply beyond human comprehension," the lady who had taken to moving a basket of yarn balls replied. Her crinkly face was stretched into a smile.

Percy watched as one of her sisters folded a two-toned sweater into the basket, the electric blue threads crisscrossing with pale absinthes. He thought she sent him a wink as the basket was hidden properly inside a wooden crate. "So why have you brought us here?" he ventured to ask.

"I think you know," the three ladies chorused.

Green and blue pairs of eyes met.

* * *

"So this is real?"

"How do you want me to prove it to you?"

Percy blushed as Luke traced one finger down his jaw, igniting a trail of sparks that deepened the blush on his cheeks. "I think you're old enough to make your own decisions."

Luke laughed, leaning in close and pulling the teen even closer.

Hot breaths mingled just before their lips met.

**_-END-_ **


End file.
